


Moments of Gold

by phyripo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 22:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyripo/pseuds/phyripo
Summary: Eduard has managed to convince his cousins that he is dating his roommate-slash-best-friend, Toris, which wouldn't be that much of a problem if one of them wouldn't be coming over to stay with them for a few days. Against his better judgment, Toris agrees to play the boyfriend - only to start seeing Eduard in an entirely different light.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a request that got out of hand :'))
> 
> I almost tagged 'Céline Dion' but I restrained myself. the fic _is_ named after a line from the song 'It's All Coming Back To Me Now', which is the song that Estonia is singing in the beginning. I know it's a bad title don't judge me.
> 
> the human names are pretty obvious, but just in case:  
> Toris - Lithuania  
> Eduard - Estonia  
> Tuomi - Finland  
> Liz - Hungary  
> Raivis - Latvia
> 
> the Hungary & Finland pairings are meant to be ambiguous, though Hungary's is the most ambiguous; you can't even tell if she's getting married to a man or a woman :^D

Eduard is singing Céline Dion.

Toris leans against the doorpost of the living room and watches the back of his bobbing head, his long fingers on the keyboard of his laptop. He’s a good singer, but Céline Dion is an unusual choice. She’s one of those artists he only listens to when something is wrong.

Putting his bag of groceries on the coffee table, Toris walks into the room to tap his friend on the shoulder.

He jumps out of his chair, interrupting himself in the middle of singing about how cold the wind was and clutching his heart. He slams his laptop shut with the other hand, cutting Céline off too.

“Don’t – _do_ that, good god—”

Toris laughs. “Sorry. Don’t stop singing on my account. Big fan of Céline Dion.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing.

“What’s up?” Toris asks, leaning against the dining table, rifling through today’s mail.

“Why would anything be up?”

“Céline Dion,” he says distractedly. He finds a letter addressed to himself, but when he opens it, it’s just a reminder from the library that his books are past due.

“You know me too well.” Eduard shoots him a questioning look, and Toris shakes his head. “But it’s nothing serious, don’t worry.” He pauses, bites his thumbnail. Toris waits.

After a while, Eduard stands up and starts unpacking the groceries, putting them in neat piles on the table according to where they should go. Their ongoing strife over whether to put oranges in the refrigerator or not is won by Toris this round, mainly because he is the one putting them away. He does take one before he puts the rest in the vegetable drawer along with the apples and the lettuce, and starts peeling it when Eduard finally sighs, sitting back down.

“I did something stupid,” he admits.

“Yeah?” Toris focuses on his orange but listens.

Eduard huffs. “You know my cousin Liz, right? She’s getting married next month.”

“Hmh. I met her on your birthday last year.” He inspects an orange part against the sunlight and, satisfied that there are no seeds in it, puts it in his mouth. It’s good.

“And Tuomi, you remember him too?”

“Your other cousin? With the tattoos and the pokerface boyfriend?”

Eduard nods. Silently accepts the orange part Toris offers him. “Pokerface boyfriend is pokerface fiancé now. And that’s kind of where the problem starts.”

Intrigued, Toris raises his eyebrows. He has a hard time imagining what the problem could be. When Eduard starts to chew on a nail again, he thrusts another piece of orange in his direction. 

“Thanks. I, ah… I might have told them I was dating someone. Just because, you know… They like to tease me about being the only one who’s still single, but lately it’s just been – hitting a little close to home, I guess.”

Toris swallows thoughtfully. “That’s not that much of a problem, is it?”

A nervous laugh. Eduard pushes his glasses up and looks at his closed laptop very intently. 

“ _Is_ it?” Toris asks.

“It _is_ when you know that – uhm.” He takes his glasses _off_ , which is as clear a sign as the Céline Dion. “I told them it was you.”

Toris puts his orange down.

“What do you mean, you told them it was me?”

“Exactly that. I just… It was the easiest. I know you, and they know you, kind of, and it’s… I’m sorry.” He looks very forlorn, even when he puts his glasses back on. Toris can’t help it. He starts to laugh. It doesn’t help when his friend starts to splutter.

“I’m sorry,” Toris hiccups, “but you have to admit that even for you, that’s ridiculous.”

“ _Even for me_ —” he starts indignantly, but Toris interrupts him.

“It’s weird, but I don’t mind, not really. Why is it a problem? Just tell them we – we broke up if you want to stop lying.” He pushes his hair out of his face, still grinning.  Trust Eduard to do something like this. When the silence stretches on, the smile slowly slips from his face. “Ed?”

“No, I— Remember when I told you about Liz’s wedding? She’s holding it here in town.”

“Ye-es?”

“Tuomi lives quite a way out…”

 _Oh_. He understands what Eduard is referring to. “We said he could stay over here.”

Eduard smiles wryly. “So that means we’ve got several options. You tell me I’m an idiot and I admit to my cousins that I was lying, we pretend we’ve just broken up when Tuomi comes, or—”

“Or we pretend we’re a couple,” Toris finishes, and the sentence sends an odd little shiver of anticipation through his chest. He picks up the last piece of orange and bites it in half thoughtfully. “Could we pull that off?”

Eduard’s light eyes suddenly have a familiar mischievous spark in them, a pleased little something that makes the corners of Toris’s mouth curl up because it reminds him of ill-advised midnight baking sessions  in college and propositions that ended with both of them hurtling down icy streets in dressing gowns. It’s been a while since he’s seen it. They’ve both been weighed down by their jobs lately.

“I think we could definitely pull that off,” Eduard says. 

“Only one way to find out.”

Eduard flips the lid of his laptop up, silences Céline Dion when she starts wailing again, and opens up an honest-to-god spreadsheet. Toris doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

* * *

Eduard puts everything in his spreadsheet that he seems to think is relevant for them to think of if they want to portray a convincing couple. Apparently, he convinced his family that they have been together for a few _months_ , since the beginning of the year. He’s suitably bashful about that.

It’s weird, but Toris mainly thinks it’s really funny and gladly teases him about it. The whole situation also makes for good leverage to get Eduard to do laundry or feed the hamsters.

A lot of things on the list don’t require much work. The upside of them having lived together for most of the past of six years is that they are well aware of each other’s habits, idiosyncrasies and preferences in many things. There are plenty of pictures with them both in it, or pictures of either one of them taken by the other. They have many shared experiences, and it’s pretty amusing to give what actually happened at certain times a romantic twist. It leaves them choking on laughter multiple times, just imagining themselves taking walks on the beach or things like that.

The most awkward thing is when they get to the point, about a week before Eduard’s cousin will be coming over to stay for a few days, where they realize that a certain degree of intimacy will be required to make the whole thing believable.

After Toris refuses to quit when Eduard suggests so, the man sighs, pushes his glasses up nervously and says, “Then we should practice.”

Which is how Toris finds himself trailing his fingers down Eduard’s arm when he passes him by on the way to work in the morning, and that is actually rather nice. Grounding, in a way. It’s also why they gradually shift closer together on the couch until Eduard curls his long legs up and leans into Toris’s side as he reads a book on his tablet, and it’s odd, _different_ , but not weird.

Neither of them are tactile people, but they are comfortable with each other. And good thing.

They’re sort of avoiding the subpoint on the spreadsheet that says ‘kissing(?)’ – but, hell, if they don’t want to kiss, then that’s none of Tuomi’s business, is it?

The last point has them quickly moving some of Toris’s stuff to Eduard’s bedroom, because it’d be stupid to ask Eduard’s cousin to crash on the couch when the two of them have supposedly been sleeping together for months. 

They lie on the bed for a while, staring at the wooden slats of the ceiling, their forearms touching lightly. It’s a little narrow for two grown men, but they’ve had worse – it was decided they would take two tents on holiday after the first camping trip.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eduard asks. Toris turns his head to look at the man’s familiar profile, the steady movement of his chest. His arm is rather cold despite the summer heat they can’t quite keep out of the apartment.

“Sure,” Toris says. “It’ll be fun, Ed. Don’t worry about it.”

He props himself up an elbow so he can look down at Eduard, hair brushing his cheek. They both chuckle. Eduard pushes the offending strand behind Toris’s ear.

“If you say so,” he says, still smiling faintly. His hand is cool on Toris’s cheek when it slips back down.

Toris is quite unsure what he’s supposed to make of that moment later, but he knows it felt nice, and for now, he’s content to leave it at that.

* * *

Eduard’s cousin Tuomi is much the same as Toris remembers him from that one time they met, if less drunk. He also seems to have accumulated even more tattoos since then, which astounds Toris. He isn’t wearing an engagement ring, but cheerfully explains that his fiancé, who’s out at sea right now, isn’t allowed to wear jewelry so he thought it would be stupid to get rings. Eduard lights up when the man places his guitar in the living room, which makes Toris grin. He knows Tuomi is a professional session guitarist, so he looks forward to hearing him play at some point.

They’re a musical family, he realizes not for the first time – their cousin Liz is a songwriter, and Eduard works in music production himself. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’re going to come up with an embarrassing parody song for the upcoming wedding. 

Toris and Eduard are in luck that none of their friends are in the habit of dropping by unannounced, though Toris does have to field an awkward call from a very intrigued Raivis, their short-term college roommate, while Eduard shows his cousin around the apartment.

He finds the both of them on the cramped balcony when he’s done, and grimaces at Eduard when raises his eyebrows in question. The man chuckles a little, but he doesn’t know that Toris instructed Raivis to send as many embarrassing texts as possible.

The three of them sit there for a while, talking amicably about this and that and nursing cold drinks. The weather has been sweltering for the past few weeks; Liz picked a good time to get married. Toris is very conscious of the way he puts his bare feet up on Eduard’s chair, toes barely-brushing against his thigh. Eduard seems less conscious of how he keeps brushing his fingers over Toris’s ankle, but perhaps he’s just better at acting.

For dinner, Toris goes and gets Thai down the street. Eduard steals even more from him than usual. 

No one moves from the balcony until it’s past midnight, and Eduard might have taken some time off but Toris has work tomorrow, so he really needs to go to sleep. Tuomi yawns demonstratively and declares he’ll follow the example, so they all traipse inside and say their goodnights.

Toris and Eduard don’t look at each other while they shuck their clothes, a sudden awkwardness settling over the bedroom. Still, Toris is not going to wear anything more than his boxers and a t-shirt; he has no desire to get heatstroke. He sneaks a glance at Eduard when they’re both lying on their back again, single sheet only pulled up to their hips. He always looks odd without his glasses on, with his hair falling away from his forehead. He looks at Toris too. Squints. 

“Are your eyes _that_ bad?” Toris asks. “We’re practically crammed together.”

Eduard huffs indignantly. “You know they are. Don’t mock my poor eyesight.”

“I’ll mock you all I want.” But he laughs, happy that the awkward moment has shattered.

“Shut up,” Eduard mumbles, but he can’t hide the fact that he’s smiling before he turns on his side, away from Toris. “Go to sleep.”

“Night, Ed.”

“Goodnight.”

They’ll be fine.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Eduard is already gone from his bed when Toris’s alarm goes off. The guy always has been an insanely early riser. Toris goes through his morning routine without running into him, though; he’s probably out on the balcony already, maybe listening to music. He does, surprisingly, meet Tuomi, who wanders bleary-eyed but cheerful into the kitchen while he’s eating breakfast.

“Please don’t tell me your whole family is like this,” he sighs.

“Like what?” Tuomi lifts a banana from the fruit bowl. “Do you have any oranges?”

“Early risers. Oranges are in the fridge.”

“The _fridge_?” he asks incredulously, but he does open it. “I’ve never met anyone who puts their oranges in the fridge. Also… I don’t know. You’re up early too.”

Toris shrugs, mildly affronted that no one appears to understand the proper method of storing oranges. He finishes his sandwich while Tuomi peels the orange, then goes to brush his teeth. When he returns to the kitchen, he does run into Eduard, who’s winding his headphones around his phone and wearing a bathrobe. The balcony is chilly in the mornings.

“Hey,” Eduard says, both of them standing in the narrow door opening, “off to work, hm?”

“Yeah.” Toris flicks a glance at Tuomi, who gestures with a piece of orange.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” he says, grinning.

Toris looks back at Eduard, momentarily confused, and then realizes the domestic picture they paint; he in his tacky work shirt and Eduard with his messy hair and bathrobe, hovering in the doorway just before he leaves. Tuomi thinks they’re shy. Eduard messes up his hair even more when he runs his fingers through it; Toris catches his bony wrist before he can start chewing on his nails again and meets his eye.

“I’ll see you this evening,” he says, softly but probably loud enough for Tuomi to hear. “Have fun.”

“Yeah, no, we will,” Eduard stutters. “Have a good, uhm…”

Toris looks up at him steadily, searching the familiar light eyes until Eduard gives a minuscule nod. Then, trying not to think about it, he leans up to press their lips together. It’s a little too hard to even be considered a kiss, and barely lasts a second, but Toris can feel himself flushing, for once not from the heat, so he waves at Tuomi and dashes to the front door so fast he nearly trips over his own feet.

Outside, he leans against the wall and tries to calm his heart. That was ridiculous. They should definitely get better at that.

Still. He touches his lips. Shakes his head. He brushes his hair away and rushes down to catch his bus. It’s going to be another long day.

* * *

“You look tired,” is the first thing Eduard says to him when he gets home. He’s in the kitchen, making dinner while his cousin sets the tiny table outside.

“Well, I _am_.” He pulls his red work shirt over his head and throws it vaguely in the direction of the washing machine at the end of the kitchen. The tank top he wears underneath is sticking to his back.

“Sorry.”

Toris grunts vaguely in reply, then hooks his chin over Eduard’s shoulder to look at the pans just in time for Tuomi’s return. Eduard smells like the shampoo he uses, which Toris belatedly realizes is a weird thing to notice, and he shivers when Toris’s hair, which has been escaping from its ponytail all day, brushes against his neck. Tuomi only smiles and nods at them, taking some cutlery outside.

“That’s a good one,” Eduard says softly, moving the shoulder that Toris’s chin is resting on.

“I know.” Toris smiles. “How long until this is done? Can I take a shower before dinner?”

“Go ahead. It’ll simmer for a while.” He gestures with his wooden spoon, which makes Toris laugh. He feels, more than hears, the man huff, shoulder jumping.

He promises Eduard to be right out, and takes a wonderfully cool shower, letting the water soothe his sore muscles. He wishes he were as passionate about his job as Eduard is, instead of being stuck in that store day after boring day. It isn’t that he hates it, but it isn’t what he wants for the rest of his life either.

Well. This is not the time to think about that.

Dinner is pleasant; Eduard and Tuomi enthusiastically share stories about their day, and Tuomi plays his guitar until the downstairs neighbor yells up at them to stop making so much noise. When Toris feels his eyes start to get heavy, he first lets his head drop on Eduard’s shoulder, which is actually not that pleasant at all, since it’s rather pointy, and then announces he’s going to bed. He stands up. Stretches. He looks down at Eduard, whose glasses flicker with the reflection of the candle on the table.

“Goodnight,” the man says softly. He tilts his chin up, as if in question. Toris inhales sharply in realization.

“Night,” he returns. He puts his hands on the armrests of Eduard’s chair and leans over to him until his hair brushes against his face, which makes him chuckle and push his fingers into it. Their legs are tucked together, Toris leaning against the chair. He, again, tries not to think about anything, but his pulse has skyrocketed and he is very keenly aware of Tuomi sitting just _there_ and how warm Eduard’s fingers are. 

But his lips are even warmer, and this time it’s a kiss for sure, a soft, short brush of their mouths. Toris swallows heavily when he stands up straight, while Eduard clears his throat.

“Goodnight, Toris,” Tuomi says cheerfully, and it snaps him back.

“Right, you too.” He scampers inside.

What in the world is going _on_ here? It’s not even _weird_ to kiss him, it’s just… Good.

Which is… Probably a bit _not_ good, all things considered.

* * *

When Toris wakes with a start, it’s still dark, and he is shaking, breathing unsteadily. His heart pounds in his throat.

He can’t remember the dream – he hardly ever can – but he knows enough to have to sit up on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. Try to calm his breathing. He can do this. In, out.

“Toris?” Eduard mumbles from the dark. There’s the snap of his glasses opening. Toris doesn’t think he can speak without wheezing. 

“Hey.” Rustling, then the mattress dipping next to him. A hand on his back. Slow circles, ever larger.

Toris presses his fingertips against his eyelids until the dark dances with sparks. Eduard tangles his fingers in his hair silently, and he leans back into the touch.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be. Do you want some water?”

Toris nods, but regrets doing so when Eduard leaves for the kitchen. He stares at the crack of light coming in from the open door until he comes back, then takes the glass of water with a small smile. Eduard sits back down next to him and resumes whatever he’s trying to do to his hair. He hasn’t turned any lights on, for which Toris is grateful.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Toris says eventually, when he has drained his water. He looks at Eduard with one eye, and the man shakes his head.

“You know I don’t mind.” He bites the thumbnail of his free hand. “I didn’t know you still had nightmares.”

Toris shrugs. “They don’t happen often anymore. Not like in college.” He studies his glass. Presses it against his wrists. “Usually when I’m sleeping somewhere new.”

“Some— Oh. You could have told me. We could have used your room.”

“I didn’t think about it.” Then, when he feels Eduard’s fingers tighten ever so slightly, “Honestly. That’s how seldom they happen. I guess I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay.” Eduard’s hand is slipping down to rest on Toris’s neck. “If you say that, I believe you. Please talk to me if you need to, though.”

Toris half-laughs, “You wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I couldn’t do that, right?”

“Right,” he breathes. Toris can’t help but look up at him, and when their eyes meet, he becomes very aware of every part of his body that’s touching him all of a sudden. Their thighs and arms and Eduard’s hand on his neck. They both just breathe.

“Thanks,” Toris eventually says. He sounds raspy.

“No problem.”

Again, Toris thinks, what in the world is going on?

* * *

The next day, Toris sludges his way through a morning shift, and when he comes home, he find Tuomi arguing with _Liz_ over the proper storage method for oranges. He watches the two of them for a while, dumbfounded as to what she is even doing in his apartment, and where is Eduard anyway? They’re so engrossed in their discussion that they don’t even seem to notice him. Much as he wants to chime in with his opinion, agreeing with Liz, he decides to back out to go and splash some water on his face.

Eduard is in the bathroom. He’s toweling his hair dry at top speed, and not wearing a shirt. Toris identifies a little wet lump of fabric on top of the laundry hamper as a familiar t-shirt.

“Toris?” Eduard squints at him.

“Yeah,” he says, faintly amused. “What’s going on?”

“Liz is going on,” Eduard explains unhelpfully. He wrings his shirt out over the shower drain and throws it into the laundry. Then, he puts his glasses on and looks surprised about the fact that is actually _in_ the laundry.

“Liz is going on?” Toris laughs. “She’s arguing with Tuomi about oranges in the kitchen, so I suppose you’re right, but still. What’s she doing here?”

“Oranges? Nevermind that.” Eduard hobbles to his bedroom, probably to pick out a new shirt. Toris wanders after him after quickly splashing his face. He leans against the doorpost and doesn’t notice that Eduard’s chest is still wet because is not looking at it. At all.

“She showed up for lunch,” Eduard explains when he has a clean shirt on. “Which is fine, it’s been fun, but she and Tuomi also managed to get water all over me. Have you eaten?” he adds, as an apparent afterthought.

Toris nods.

“Good. How do you feel about going to the lake this afternoon? I’m afraid Tuomi and Liz are going to break our house down if we stay here, and I don’t think Mrs Grumpy downstairs would appreciate that.”

Laughing, Toris agrees to a trip to the lake. No movement will be required at the lake; maybe he can even take a nap, as long as they take a parasol… Which they don’t have, he’s pretty sure. A tree will do.

He did not anticipate the orange argument lasting all the way through the car ride there.

* * *

Later, when the sky is already turning vaguely orange and Eduard is, inevitably, turning vaguely red, and Toris didn’t take a nap but he is covered in sand and Liz is wearing Tuomi’s shirt as a cape, the four of them lounge around by the edge of the lake until Tuomi proposes to go get his guitar, which he insisted on bringing, from the car. He and Liz start a scuffle over his shirt. Eduard grins widely, and Toris has to smile at him.

“You feeling alright now?” Eduard asks in an undertone. He pushes his glasses up on his sweaty nose, scrunching it a little.

“Yeah.”

Eduard nudges him with his shoulder. “Good.”

Liz, having won the battle for Tuomi’s shirt, flops down across from them, spilling sand everywhere when she shakes out her long hair, wavy from the water.

“It’s good to be out for a while,” she says. “I had no idea so many preparations went into a wedding. Then again, I guess it’s only as complicated as you make it.”

The both of them mumble vague confirmations. Eduard sags into Toris a little, like he does when they’re on the couch. Toris shakes his head at the weird tense of the thought; as if it’s a habit that they’ve had for a long time instead of a week-old one they forced upon themselves. Even if forced is a big word.

“But look at you two!” Liz continues. And then to Tuomi as he returns with his guitar, “Aren’t they adorable?”

Tuomi just laughs, and Eduard makes an embarrassed noise, hiding his face against Toris’s shoulder. The sand scrapes unpleasantly between them. How did it get there, even?

“Aw,” Liz continues, grin wide, “don’t be like that, Ed. We’re happy for you!”

“They’re shy,” Tuomi mumbles, plucking at his guitar, gently tuning it.

“Only because you’re embarrassing,” Eduard retorts, though he’s still leaning on Toris’s shoulder.

He doesn’t move for a while, even as Tuomi starts playing, and Liz joins him in a medley of classics sung in terrible harmonies. Clearly, Eduard is the best singer in the family. When Liz asks to play the guitar for a minute, Tuomi orders her to go wash the sand off first, which results in her pointing out how much sandier than her Toris is, which in turn, of course, results in all of them splashing into the water, even Tuomi.

While Toris is attempting to rinse the sand from his hair, leaning back into the lake, Eduard hovers nearby. He shakes his hair out. Raises his eyebrows at him in question.

Eduard smiles wryly and asks, “You wouldn’t happen to know why Raivis has been sending me texts with kissy faces in them, would you?”

“No idea,” Toris says, widening his eyes in an attempt at an innocent look, but he starts laughing at the same time, so it has very little effect.

“Sometimes I really don’t like you very much,” Eduard sighs. Toris only laughs louder, then gets a mouth full of water when Eduard pushes him over. When he resurfaces, spluttering, his friend is grinning, the familiar sparkle in his eyes once again.

“What? You can’t dunk me,” he says, faux-innocent. “I’m wearing glasses.”

But these are old glasses, Toris knows that, worn specifically because they might get wet. And he’s not giving up a chance at revenge. He lunges at Eduard, a battle cry that’s half laughter ripping from his throat. They both go under the cool water this time, and up again, and Eduard splashes water into Toris’s face when Toris attempts to trip him underwater. There are drops sliding down his glasses, but he’s grinning while they splash around like children.

After a short while, their battle dies down, and Eduard slides his glasses up into his hair. They’re submerged up to half their chests now. Tuomi and Liz are shouting in amusement from nearer the shore. Toris sees Eduard’s gaze flick over to them, though he can’t imagine he’s seeing much of anything at the moment. They hover close together.

Eduard’s fingers are on Toris’s waist, and Toris’s own hand floats somewhere near his chest. Fingers curling. He looks over his shoulder at Eduard’s cousins. Liz waves. Tuomi winks. He looks back at Eduard. His eyes are sharp without the glasses framing them.

When Eduard leans forward to push Toris’s wet hair away from his face, Toris expects the kiss. He touches Eduard’s chest.

He doesn’t expect it to last.

But it does.

It lasts long enough for him to wrap both his arms around Eduard’s neck, pulling himself up so they’re the same height. To taste the water clinging to his lips. Feel the long fingers slide down his back. Eduard is warm. Toris feels overheated.

He can’t say how long it really was, but when they break apart, the hooting coming from the shore snaps them both back to reality.

“Get some, Ed!” Liz shouts. Tuomi breaks down laughing.

“We’re, uhm…” Eduard starts, and doesn’t continue.

“We’re getting good at this,” Toris offers breathlessly, looking anywhere but his face.

The only reply he gets is a weak, “Really good.”

* * *

By the time they’re back home, everyone is exhausted, so they take turns showering and crash. Toris is grateful for the fact that he doesn’t really have to talk with Eduard.

“Night, Ed,” he says.

“Goodnight,” Eduard replies. “Good dreams.”

“Good dreams,” Toris mumbles into the dark. “I hope.”

Only two more days.

* * *

The next day, a Friday, dawns as sunny as the rest of the month, and with Toris pinned in place by half of Eduard’s weight on top of him. It is _very_ uncomfortable.

“It’s too warm for this,” he mumbles, attempting to push him off. And, ew, they’re sticking together. “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

“’Cause ‘m very smart, ‘s why,” comes the unexpected, barely decipherable reply, muffled into Toris’s shirt.

Toris has a hard time believing that at this exact moment. He pushes at Eduard until he moves, looks at the clock and sees that it is still insanely early – of course, or Eduard would have been up – but now he’s awake, so he might as well go and take a short shower. With an absentminded pat on Eduard’s head, he hobbles to the bathroom.

When he’s done, Toris finds Tuomi in the kitchen once more. He is trying to feed the hamsters.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi, Toris. Off to work again?”

“Hm, no. I’ve got the day off. Just couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s the heat.” Tuomi nods in sympathy.

Toris ambles down to the mailboxes after eating a slice of bread with some honey, saying hi to their grumpy downstairs neighbor on the way and speedwalking away from the overzealously religious gentleman next to her. He has no desire to try to be converted today.

There is a letter addressed to him in the mail, his name and address printed on a neat label. His heart leaps into his throat. He quickly takes the mail back to their apartment, where Eduard is now also floating around in the kitchen. His fingers shake when he fumbles the envelope open. Eduard chews his disgusting cornflakes slowly, obviously staring at him.

 _Dear Mr Laurinaitis_ , Toris reads, and then he has to take a deep breath before reading the next line. When he does, he presses his lips together tightly to stop a loud yell from escaping.

“Toris?” Eduard asks softly. He looks up at him, clutching the paper. Grins so widely that his cheeks hurt, lower lip caught between his teeth. Eduard’s eyes widen. He puts his spoon down and jumps up.

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” Toris bursts, waving the letter back and forth. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Eduard utters a cry of triumph and throws himself at Toris, nearly knocking him over with the force of his hug – and nothing about that is acted, Toris can feel it in his bones. Eduard knows how anxiously he’s been waiting for this message, was more confident than Toris himself that it would be a positive one. He wraps his arms around Eduard’s neck, burying his face in them.

“I told you,” Eduard mutters into his ear. “I fucking told you, Toris.”

“I know, I know.” He pulls his head back a little, and somehow it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean his forehead against Eduard’s, their noses touching. Toris is still unable to stop smiling, and his vision is slightly blurry beyond the turquoise of his friend’s eyes, but it doesn’t matter. Eduard’s hands are on his back, barely-moving in tiny circles. What part of this is acted, if any part, he can’t tell, and that doesn’t matter either.

“Congratulations,” Eduard whispers, his breath hot on Toris’s skin. He slides his fingers around his jaw slowly, and somehow this is worse, and at the same time so much better than kissing him. They are close without doing anything else, just breathing. Their legs touch, from knees to hips. Never before have they done anything like this, but Toris wishes that they would. It makes him feel safe. It also makes him feel… Tingly.

A faint cough pulls them both out of their weird stasis.

Tuomi looks amused, pretending as he is to be very interested in the lock screen of Eduard’s tablet.

“Uhm,” Eduard says. He removes his fingers from Toris’s face and steps back.

“Should I go for a walk?” Tuomi asks, now looking up through his pale eyelashes. “It seems as though you two have something to celebrate.”

Eduard actually glances back at Toris as if asking for an answer to that, but he shakes his head. If anything, he isn’t sure what’ll happen if they’re left alone now, when the warm air seems to crackle between them. Whatever that is, it probably isn’t much good.

“Sorry,” Eduard just tells his cousin, but Tuomi waves it away.

“And congratulations, on whatever that is,” he adds, at Toris.

“Oh, well.” He starts grinning again, unable to help himself. He catches an undeniably fond look on Eduard’s face. “I’ve got a new job! The historical library in town is – was, I guess – looking for a new custodian. And it’s me!” He waves a little, awkwardly. Someone like Tuomi, with his tattoos and his guitar, probably isn’t that interested in old books and would think it is incredibly boring to hang around them all day, but Toris can’t imagine anything better. He loves history, as much as Eduard loves music and his freaky computer codes and the disgusting cereal.

“Congratulations!” Tuomi repeats, more heartfelt this time. Shaking Toris’s hand enthusiastically, he adds, “That does call for a celebration! How about I make dinner tonight?”

Eduard makes a strangled noise. Tuomi rolls his eyes at him.

“I promise I won’t burn down your house. You’ve _got_ to let that go, Ed, honestly.”

Burn down their house? Alarmed, Toris looks over at Eduard, then back at Tuomi.

“It was only the kitchen,” the man assures him. _Not_ very reassuringly. “I was fourteen! I panicked!”

“I don’t think Uncle Daniel ever forgave you,” Eduard muses. 

With a bright smile, Tuomi says, “I don’t think he did! That’ll be fun at Liz’s wedding tomorrow. Toris, care for some grocery shopping?”

Even when he’s in Eduard’s car, Toris is unsure how he got roped into this.

* * *

Grocery shopping with Tuomi is fun, but exhausting. He bounces through the supermarket, pointing out things he likes to Toris from time to time, talking about his fiancé and who he has played guitar for lately and the song he and Eduard have made for Liz’s wedding. He actually sings a few bars of that one, which results in an employee giving him a very strange look indeed, but he seems not to care. Toris is vaguely impressed.

“You know,” Tuomi says, when they’re finally back outside, the heat slamming into them like a _wall_ , “I really am very pleased about you and Eduard.”

“Oh?” Toris asks faintly, feeling a trickle of guilt settle in his stomach.

“Yeah!” He shoves their shopping bag into the trunk of the car and wipes his messy blond hair out of his face. “You’re good for him, I think that’s obvious. Whether as a friend or, you know, a boyfriend. Ed deserves to be happy.”

“That he does,” Toris can’t help but agree.

Tuomi nods slowly, opening the driver’s side door.

“I think you make him happier.” The words are softly spoken, but Toris has to lean against the scorching exterior of the car for a few seconds when they seem to hit him square in the chest like an even bigger wall.

When he thinks about it – imagining the future, he’s always pictured Eduard there, in some undefined role, but next to him. What if he wouldn’t be? The thought makes him shiver.

“Toris?” Tuomi asks from inside the car.

“I think he makes me happier too,” Toris tells the shimmering air over the parking lot.

* * *

They spend the afternoon in a nearby park. Tuomi plays the guitar and Eduard refuses to sing until Toris goads him into it. He really is very good.

This leads to Tuomi telling Toris that the both of them used to be in a choir – Eduard looks mortified to have this revealed, especially when Tuomi turns out to have a picture saved on his phone of Eduard as a little boy in a frankly adorable purple outfit. The cousins scuffle over the phone. Toris laughs and doesn’t complain when Eduard flops over his legs after the inevitable defeat.

Later still, Eduard anxiously chews on his fingernails while Tuomi putters around in the kitchen, having shooed him out minutes before.

Without looking up from his book, Toris reaches out and tugs his hand down. He lets his fingers linger on the warm skin of his wrist and reads the same paragraph three times without parsing a single word. Eduard is still.

Tuomi’s spaghetti tastes delicious. Toris makes sure to compliment him profusely until he breaks down laughing and Eduard pushes at his shoulder in embarrassment.

A cool wind rolls into the city by nightfall, so they move inside and play some cards. When Tuomi proposes to turn it into a drinking game, Toris grits his teeth and breathes slowly. He’s trying to stare a hole into the tabletop when he feels Eduard’s long fingers curl around his wrist, then down to his palm and between his own fingers, tangling their hands together.

“I don’t drink,” he tells Tuomi, who shrugs and tilts his head curiously, but doesn’t ask anything. Eduard squeezes his hand slightly.

That night, when they’re both crammed into Eduard’s bed again, Toris finds his friend’s arm and runs his fingers down the warm skin, feeling goosebumps rise under his fingertips.

“Night, Ed,” he says.

“Goodnight.” He sounds hoarse.

How will this end?

* * *

The next day, Tuomi and Eduard put the finishing touches on the embarrassing song they created for Liz in the morning, and before the afternoon, all three of them walk through the heat to where the wedding will take place, which is just around the corner of the street. Toris feels slightly guilty about coming along, since he has only been invited as ‘Eduard’s boyfriend’, but he can’t very well voice that thought while Tuomi is still right there, can he?

Toris is caught, for the first time that he can remember, by the thought that Eduard looks _good_. He has gotten a bit of a tan lately, and the top buttons of his neat white shirt are undone, revealing the dip of his throat. Objectively speaking, Toris knows he’s good-looking, if a bit dorky most of the time, but he’s never… _Noticed_. Never looked at Eduard and thought, _yes, now that’s someone I want to_ —

He shakes himself. He doesn’t really think things like that anyway, not often.

Not until he really _knows_ someone. Until he’s learned to care about their personality and oddities and the way they bite their nails or sing along to Céline Dion when they’re stressed.

Oh, god.

How long has he been falling in love with his best friend without even realizing it?

The wedding is beautiful; Liz looks gorgeous, and she seems so happy that Toris feels himself get a little emotional too. Although that might also have something to do with Tuomi blowing his nose next to him. Eduard can’t quite hide his laughter.

Eduard’s parents arrive later in the afternoon to congratulate Liz and her brand new spouse. Toris and Eduard share one look and bolt.

“We forgot about my parents!” Eduard hisses, while they’re hiding behind the cake, which is a giant thing in several shades of green. It tasted great. Toris wonders if he can get away with taking another slice.

“No, _really_?”

“What if she tells them we’re dating?”

Toris tugs Eduard’s hand down from his mouth. “I don’t know! Let’s just play along? At some point we’re gonna have to pretend to – to break up. Right?”

They look at each other again, longer this time. Eduard pushes his glasses up, averting his gaze.

“Right. Okay.”

* * *

They needn’t have worried, because Eduard’s parents leave quickly after saying goodbye to Eduard, apparently having more pressing matters to attend to than their niece’s wedding.

“Ah, well, you’re a Mets or you aren’t a Mets,” Eduard shrugs, which makes very little sense to Toris, but he lets it slide. He generally doesn’t see much of Eduard’s parents; he thinks he’s only met them thrice in all the years he’s known Eduard. His own mother used to come over every weekend in college until he wanted to impress a girl and decided to be embarrassed by it.

He smiles down at his soup. That girl never did like him very much.

Afternoon weddings are good, he has decided. Even if they are very hot. You don’t have to mess up your entire sleep schedule, people are less inclined to get drunk, and you can actually _see_ the newlyweds scowl at their cousins(-in-law) when they perform their embarrassing song.

After dinner, there is some more dancing, the traditional speeches from friends, and by ten, things are winding down. No doubt they’ll go on for a while, but Toris really doesn’t feel much for hanging around with people he barely knows, who thinks he’s his best friend’s boyfriend. He seeks out Eduard, who’s talking to one of Liz’s new in-laws, and asks him for the keys to the apartment – since they gave the spare set to Tuomi.

“You’re going?”

“Hmh. If you don’t mind.”

Eduard bites his lip. “I think I’ll come with you, actually. I’ve got to take Tuomi to the airport early tomorrow morning. He is flying out to see his fiancé.”

So he says goodbye to the woman he was talking to, waves at Liz, who’s dancing with Tuomi’s dad, and walks home with Toris. The cool wind is back, rolling through the street and ruffling his hair, tinted red in the light of the setting sun. Toris catches himself thinking _beautiful_ , and his heart clenches, because it’s nearly over. Their little charade.

But then, does either of them really want it to end? He’s uncertain about the answer to that question. Uncertain if he wants to know, really.

They laugh about the parody song all up the stairs and into their apartment. Toris pulls his hair out of its half-up ponytail and stretches. Yawns.

“It’s not that late yet,” Eduard says, clearly amused. It _is_ barely half past ten, but Toris is knackered.

“Your family is very tiring,” he jokes, combing his fingers through his hair. Eduard huffs.

“I can’t say you’re wrong.”

Toris smiles. Looks up at him. The tip of his nose is a little red, and so are his cheeks. A button or two more of his shirt has come undone. Toris tilts his head thoughtfully.

“Toris?”

Then he decides not to think about it any more. He hooks his fingers into the shirt, fingertips touching hot skin. Catches Eduard’s widening eyes, the familiar-unfamiliar flicker in them. He catches the tiny nod. So he kisses him.

This time, he does expect it to last, and it does. Eduard’s hands are in his hair, tangling in the messy strands, keeping him close. Like Toris was going anywhere. He closes his eyes tightly, presses himself as much against Eduard as possible. Hands on his shoulder blades – he lets his fingers curl into the shirt – and legs tucked together, and his lips are _searing_ against his own. They are sweet and full and Toris chases after Eduard when he pulls back ever so slightly, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

And then the front door opens, and Eduard springs back, pressing himself against the opposite wall in the narrow hall. His lips are red and his breathing hard, and he looks dejected when he sees Tuomi standing in the doorway, holding his hands out apologetically.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he grins. “I was right behind you, I guess I should have known.”

Toris swallows. Eduard pushes off the wall.

“Good catch,” he mumbles at Toris, and then he disappears to the bathroom. Toris stares after him.

“Sorry?” Tuomi says again. Toris can’t help but hate him a tiny little bit at the moment.

* * *

Eduard is pretending to sleep, and Toris decides not to say anything to him. They’ll figure it out in the morning.

* * *

Of course, Eduard is gone when Toris gets up to go to work, which is much more enjoyable knowing he won’t be doing it for much longer.

He still isn’t home when Toris gets there in the late afternoon, and he doesn’t respond to his texts either.

Well, fine. If he wants to be childish, Toris isn’t going to argue with him about that. He’ll have to come around. Eventually.

* * *

When Eduard does show up, he brings dinner and looks suitably bashful. Also weirdly apprehensive.

If Toris was waiting for him to say anything about last night, he is disappointed. Eduard seems content pretending everything is back to regular. He even sits on his previously-normal spot on the couch. All of it makes Toris feel unsettled, and vaguely angry. He _knows_ that wasn’t nothing. Both of them know that. Eduard can’t possibly think it isn’t like that for him, can he?

All in all, it makes for a rather tense evening.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” Eduard announces at about eleven. It occurs to Toris that he could have moved his stuff back to his own bedroom, but he just…

“No,” he says, standing up. 

“What?”

“No, you’re going to listen to me. Please. I know you read my messages, and you didn’t respond. I was worried. And now you’re acting like—” Toris makes a vague hand gesture.

Shrugging, Eduard says, “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird week, you have to admit.”

“Yes, I’ll grant you that.” Toris steps up to him, inserting himself into his space. He tucks his hair behind his ears. Bites his cheek. Sighs. Eduard swallows visibly.

There it is again, that crackle between them. Toris tries to catch it.

“Eduard,” he says, and the man in question parts his lips, “I swear to you, I didn’t know Tuomi was right behind us last night. For all I knew, he was still dancing with some aunt or uncle or god knows who.”

Eduard’s eyebrows crease. He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes are bright.

“Then why did you kiss me?” he whispers.

“Why did you kiss back?” Toris returns. “You obviously didn’t know.”

It’s silent for a long time, but neither of them breaks away from the other’s gaze. Toris can feel his heart beating in his throat like a drum.

“Because I wanted to,” Eduard eventually says.

“Yes?”

“And I _want_ to. And I know… I know things have been weird, but I just…” He sighs. “I don’t know, Toris. Maybe I’m getting it all wrong, you know? Maybe we’re both confused.”

“If we were…” Toris thinks for a few seconds. “If we were confused, then we still ought to figure it out. But I don’t think I am.”

Eduard leans forward, almost touching their foreheads together, and whispers, “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I _wanted to_ , Eduard. Because I realized that I’ve never imagined my life without you in it, and when I did, it scared me. Because it felt _right_. What more do you want?”

A huff, and a smile edging around his lips. Long fingers on Toris’s jaw. He curls his own hands into Eduard’s shirt.

“Nothing, really,” Eduard says, and he kisses Toris.

It lasts.

**Author's Note:**

> poll: do you keep your oranges in the fridge? I don't :0


End file.
